PearstraeH

I hold this pear in my hand,
And wonder how much pressure could it stand?
I suppose the pear gave me trust,
Knowing I could obliterate it in to dust.

It is soft and squishy but warm,
And might be to some an art form,
With its fragile curves and delicate girth,
To someone it must have unimaginable worth.

Yet if it is their's then where are they?
Did they leave it to me then run away?
Am I now responsible for this pear?
To cherish and hold it with loving care?

I look down at the defenseless fruit,
Which now that I see is kinda cute.
I'll keep it close and we'll mature,
And I'll always make sure it's safe and secure.